


Lost

by qlice



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepyboys inc, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Short Story, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade angst, Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, mini tommy - Freeform, philza dadza, sparring n stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28161066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qlice/pseuds/qlice
Summary: Techno looses control sparring with Wilbur
Comments: 3
Kudos: 149





	Lost

The cottage hunkered low on the moor like a child in the elements trying to keep warm. Yet it looked alive and welcoming with a thin silver trail curling from the crooked stone chimney. The sides were the same grey slabs as the low walls in the dales and the roof was a darker slate. It’s inhabitants were unknown to the residents of the nearby village but children could often be heard giggling in the immense forest. It is to the forest Wilbur and his brothers go for rest, for serenity that flows as cool river waters. There is something about the sparkle upon the blue, a melody without a rhythm, music without sound. Above wave the great arms, clothed in the greens of every palate and none, the verdant hues of nature's free dreams. Wilbur bounced down the path that led to the tree line almost every day, much to the dismay of his younger brother who whined about not being allowed out without their father’s supervision and to the annoyance of his, slightly older, twin who groaned when Wilbur followed his trail. Techno was an enigma. Not just to the family, but to the whole world too. His silky pink hair danced with the wind, Wilbur always felt a pang of jealousy when he braided it. He hated his brown hair. It was boring. To him it was the colour of dull mud, lacking in any richer tones. It stuck out in all the wrong places and frizzed up in the rain, he often shoved a hat over it to contain its wildness. He admired his older brother, in both looks and fighting, Techno was miles in front.

He ran delicate fingers through Techno's magenta hair, pulling it over and under until it laid in a perfect braid. Wilbur huffs as his brother continues sharpening a blade, the awful screeching bursting his eardrums. His obsession with violence has always been present, their father had gifted him a hunting knife when he was just eight, six years on and his collection was remarkable. Wilbur had always been much more interested in reading and writing although on rare occasions he sparred with his brother. Polar opposites.  
Techno turned and grinned at his brother. Fangs flash, sending a shudder down Wilbur’s arms, not for his own safety but his brothers. Sneaking out to the local village caught him up with how much Techno's half-breed kind was hated. It terrified him as a child but watching him spar gave Wilbur confidence in his brother. Rain had quenched the soil from sandy hues to rich, strong browns, the kind that brings an inner smile to the twins. There's a shine when sun-rays bounce back as it melts onto the horizon, Wilbur's soft lips stretched into a smile but didn't quite reach his dark eyes, there was something off that he couldn’t quite place. Shrugging off the plaguing thoughts he shoves Techno from where he leans against the younger ones leg. They both rise and float to opposite sides of the clearing, Wilbur stood slightly taller, his gangly limbs giving him a miniscule advantage. He weighed a sword in his right hand, slashing it delicately at the air with slight apprehension, and as did so the reflection of the orange sunset danced warmly within the cool steel. The handle of the sword was bound with black leather, the hilt decorated yet understated, and the blade was slim and light. Techno stood menacingly grinning at his brother who rolled his eyes at the dramatics. Hoping to catch him by surprise, Wilbur dashed towards Techno, swinging the sword rapidly. Techno was quick to pry the edged cutlass from his pocket and whipped around to clash steel. He held the blade even, a perfect, undaunted horizon; always levelled with the nose, just as his father had taught him. He had stalled Wilbur’s initial strike, and a wretched, stained grin split his lips as Wilbur’s blade shivered under the brutality of his compelling strength.  
“C’mon Will” he throatily crooned, pressing closer to his freckled face, Techno's fangs bared. They locked eyes for a moment, His eyes were as piercing as his knife, the sharp point digging deeper into Wilbur's gaze. Where there had been love was an emptiness, but not in any vulnerable sense. Uncomfortable with the void, he had filled it with an emotion he was more at ease with - raw anger. The unmoving gaze was accompanied by deliberate slow breathing, like he was fighting something internally, and losing. The blade flashed as Techno brought it over his head and hummed a low, swift tune when he brought it down onto Wilbur’s shoulder. He was terrified, Techno wasn’t stopping.  
“Techno” he spat out, allowing himself to be shoved to the hard ground. Stars flood his vision as his head slammed into a rock, he feels sticky blood begin to matte his hair. A deep gash rips apart his shoulder, Wilbur feels as if he’s falling into a deep sleep. Techno carries on. Rolling through the sodden grass Wilbur cries out for his brother to stop. Dead eyes meet his own, this wasn’t Techno.  
“Techno'' blood spills from his mouth, staining Will’s pale lips. Cold steel rests beneath Wilbur’s chin. In that frozen second between standoff and fighting Techno's eyes flick from the blade to him. His face is unreadable, no fear, no invitational smirk.  
Thick blood oozes down the sword, a calloused hand preventing it from impaling Wilbur’s neck. He drifts in and out of consciousness before finally blacking out, the blurry vision of his brother crumpling into his fathers arms haunts him.

He awakens to howling wind, head pounding, Wilbur is slumped against a rock in the clearing. He watches the treeline, lost in the rhythmic percussion of falling leaves. His eyes are steady to the horizon, face aglow with the last orange rays before twilight beckons the stars. His fathers gentle blood-soaked hands wrap a bandage around his aching wound, a semblance of a smile rests on his scarred face. Neither of his brothers are anywhere to be seen. Words rest on the tip of his tongue, Wilbur doesn’t know what to say. Asif reading his mind, his father speaks softly.  
“Techno is fine” Wilbur feels the tension and hears the intensity in his tone. A comfortable shroud of silence lays upon the pair as Wilbur is practically dragged back to the cottage, nausea rises in his throat as he stumbles past fallen trees and holly bushes. 

Smoke floats along the wind above the cottage, the moor is covered with a thin layer of frost. It’s the type of coldness that seeps into Wilbur’s bones as if his heart were a door left open to the icy wind, slamming only to open again. The only thing keeping him moving was a firm grip around his shoulders and the heat of the fireplace only meters away. The sky is a rolling blanket of clouds that are the colour of wet ash, and the ground its dank reflection. Dread sets in as he hears a familiar chatty voice followed by a monotone hum flowing from the slightly ajar window. Tommy swings open the heavy door and latches to Wilbur’s leg, he ruffles his hair and looks over to the fireplace. Techno is wrapped in a knitted blanket, his maroon eyes reflect the soft flame- yet they are empty from all emotion. It is fear that brings rage to Wilbur, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. But as he steps closer to his brother he notices the delicate tears slipping down his rose dusted skin. He’d never seen Techno cry, not when he’d fallen from a particularly high branch and bone had jutted through his skin. Not when a mob of villagers had followed him through the woods yelling profanities. Never. Techno never cried, or never allowed Wilbur to see. Wilbur see’s those gravity-drawn shoulders painting a picture of Techno’s heart, as if neither it nor his soul would welcome a beat. He sees in Techno's eyes that his brain has built some new walls with himself isolated and so lonely on the other side.  
“I’m sorry” Techno croaks, Wilbur pulls him into a bone crushing hug, his wound burns with pain but he doesn’t mind. Tommy pounces on his older brothers, giggling softly, and Techno usually hates affection.  
“It’s okay” Wilbur mutters into his twin's pointed ears, and Techno squeezes him hard. If he gives Wilbur a chance, they can take his walls down brick by brick and start to feel together what it means to be real brothers.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't love how this turned out but have this short little sbi story  
> insp: @ pyrrhic_geese on tiktok :)  
> feel free to share with cc's !  
> kudos & comments r much appreciated


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